


I will find comfort in your voice

by nwtons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Established Relationship, High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwtons/pseuds/nwtons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has severe anxiety disorder, and Dean’s the first person who’s managed to help him live with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will find comfort in your voice

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: If you have and/or are triggered by anxiety issues/self harm, I suggest that you don't read this. <3

The first time Castiel had a breakdown, there had been no one there to comfort him.

…

He had just come home from school, expecting someone to be there, but the house was empty and cold. He worried, because his father should have been home already, and Anna didn’t have piano lessons until later that evening, but he decided it would be irrational to call them and panic into their ears. So, after pacing through the living room for ten minutes, he pushed all those thoughts aside and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. It was small, his bed seemed shorter than it had before he went to school, the books on the shelves seemed more crammed on them than they had earlier, and everything looked odd and misplaced somehow, and his head started to ache though he didn’t know why.  
A few hours and a lot of headache later, he decided to open a window and take in some fresh air. His father still hadn’t come back, and if he did, Castiel wouldn’t have heard the door close because of the pulsating of his head. It hurt like hell, he thought, and it was irritating to concentrate on something for long because everything seemed to be out of place and different somehow. He was worried, and no matter how many deep breaths he took in or how long he kept his eyes closed for, the uncomfortable feeling in his head and deep in his stomach wouldn’t go away, until he sat on the floor and brought his knees up to his chest. He rocked back and forth, tried to hum a song to calm himself down because the walls were closing in, becoming smaller and more crammed until he was suffocating in the open air of the normally-sized bedroom that had always looked just like it had then.  
He started shaking and tears rolled out of his eyes and over his cheeks, and it was too terrifying because that chair had never been there before, and his bed had never been near the door like it had been then.

Eventually, Castiel’s father came back from work and found his youngest son laying in the fetal position on the floor and humming a song to himself, his hands round himself. He had been so pale, his father told him the next morning, like he had seen a ghost or something worse. And Castiel wished that he had because it wouldn’t have been as scary as what he had gone through.

He was diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder a month later, after another breakdown where he cut his own wrist to stop the images he had been seeing. It happened the same way- no one had been home late that evening, he had tried calling them but they hand’t picked up, he had worried, and then he had seen things that weren’t really there. His heart rate had been fast, he had been shaking and humming a song to calm down, but it hadn’t worked. And then he had taken the knife and cut himself, and it had stopped.

~x~

Three years later he was a sophomore at Lawrence High. The anxiety was in control for most of the time because he had pills in his pocket all day. He had good grades, best in his class in English and Chemistry, second-best in Physics. But he didn’t mind, since the best in that field was Dean Winchester, his best friend and boyfriend of three months.

…

He met Dean on the first day of high school. They signed up for all the same classes without knowing it, and ended up sitting together in all of them because a) Dean didn’t know anyone in the school b) he thought Castiel was cool, and Castiel thought that he was interesting, and c) because they both needed a friend to get through freshman year in that hellhole of a school. So they got one.  
They became best friends after one unfortunate afternoon at the library. Castiel had forgotten his pills at home that morning. Anna had been rushing him so he’d catch the bus on time, and he had forgotten them on his bed.  
He had gone to the library during free-period with Dean, wanted to catch up on his reading and homework, and Dean had decided to tag along because a girl named Lisa had apparently been stalking him all day, and he didn’t want to see her again.  
They were studying and talking about Dean’s favorite movie (Castiel hadn’t been listening because his head had already started to hurt and he didn’t want to scare Dean by having a fit on the floor, so he pretended to listen and hummed his calming down song in his head). He had looked away for just a moment, but Dean had noticed the flinch Castiel had made a few times, gripping his wrist with his other hand to calm down, but it hadn’t been working.

“What’s wrong, Cas?”, Dean had asked, and the nickname went unnoticed because Cas had been cupping his head and humming audibly now.

“Nothing, just… I need to go.”, he had said, picked up his bag and walked out of the building with no more than a wave and something that should have been a goodbye but came out as more of a yelp of pain.

Dean had run out behind him, called his name, and followed Castiel until he stopped walking and clutched a bench that had been beside him.

“I’m sick..”, he had said, and Dean’s eyes had widened in panic.

He had thought that Dean would run away once he had sat on the bench and clutched his own head, hummed and rocked back and forth to stop the pain he had been feeling. But Dean had sat down next to him, taken his hand into his own, and had rested Castiel’s head on his chest and hummed an unfamiliar song because he had heard his friend humming to himself earlier.

“Are you better?”, he had asked after fifteen minutes of sitting like that.

He had been better, actually. He hadn’t been shaking for the whole time since Dean had embraced him, not had his head been pulsating for the past three minutes or so. But Dean had felt warm against his body, and his heart had been hammering fast in his chest as he had tried to calm Castiel down, but not himself. And from that day on, Dean had been there for him when none of his family members could have been, because Dean could have always calmed him down whilst they couldn’t have.

They became boyfriends after knowing each other for over a year. Dean had made the first move, of course, because Castiel would panic when he had thought about asking him out. Dean had called one night, asked if Castiel had wanted to go for a drive out of town, and Castiel said yes.  
Dean drove them to a quaint place that had overlooked the city and had made it look so small from where they had parked the car. He had gotten out, laid over the hood, and patted it to let Castiel know that he should join him there. He did. And Dean had leaned over him at one point as they watched the sky and had kissed him on the lips; soft and slow because he had known how Castiel could get when something was too rushed and sudden. They had relaxed into the kiss soon enough, and Dean had hummed Castiel the same song afterwards because both their hearts were pounding very fast.

…

He walked out of the school. It was a rainy autumn Friday, and Dean was waiting for him on the hood of his black ‘67 Chevrolet Impala, a real thing of beauty, he had to admit.

He smiled and walked faster, wrapping his arms around Dean as soon as he was in touching distance, and Dean chuckled before hugging back.

“Advanced English isn’t so pleasant without you there.”, he said, his voice muffled by Dean’s worn leather jacket.

“I thought you liked it.”, Dean said, a hint of worry in his voice because he knew how quick Castiel was to throw activities away because the classrooms were getting too crowded, or there was someone who talked too much, or someone who had an annoying habit and was sitting near him.

“I do, but…”, he trailed off, not wanting to worry Dean by telling him how much that girl in the front row mumbled when she spoke, nor how the teacher always made him read his work out loud and everyone stared at him as he did so.

Dean sighed and put an arm around Castiel’s shoulder, kissing his temple and then his neck. “Wanna come to my house tonight?”, he asked, and Castiel’s breath hitched. He didn’t like going anywhere except his own house and Dean’s, and more than sometimes, that one place outside town that Dean took him on their first date.

“Just you and me, right?”, he asked, brushing his cheek against Dean’s palm as they parted from the hood of his car.

“Of course.”, Dean said, getting into the driver’s seat and waiting for Castiel to get in before turning the car on and driving him home.

…

Dean was at work now, and Castiel was reading a book on his bed and ignoring the sound of Anna’s piano being played downstairs. She had to practice for an upcoming concert at her music school, to which Castiel was invited, but he wasn’t sure if he’d go or not. Maybe if Dean could come with him, it’d be better, since there would be a full auditorium of people there.

He went down the stairs and to the living room, smiled at Anna, and listened to her play something that sounded like Mozzart’s work, but he wasn’t sure.

“Father won’t be here tonight.”, she said conversationally, without stopping her fingers from hitting the keys of the black piano.

“And?”, he asked. He was never home to begin with, what with his writing job and a job at the bookstore downtown.

“I was thinking of inviting a few friends over for a movie. Would that be okay with you?”, Anna smiled then, and stopped playing.

No, it wasn’t particularly okay with Castiel for people he didn’t know to be in their house, especially when their father wasn’t home. And how many friends, exactly, is a few? His head already started to hurt a bit in the back, but he ignored it and smiled at his sister. She deserved to have a fun time with her friends no matter if he minded it, he thought. He couldn’t possibly get in the way of and possibly ruin her social life like he did his.

“It’s fine, Anna. I’ll… Dean should be back from work by eight, so I’ll go to his house.”, he said, comforting himself more than her.

“Thank you.”, she smiled, got up and kissed him on the forehead. “And we shouldn’t tell father about this, right?”

“Agreed.”, he nodded.

…

Apparently, a few friends turned into half the senior population from their school, and a movie turned into beer drinking in the kitchen and strangers making out in the hallways.

Castiel was in his room, sitting with his knees brought up to his chest and a blanket over his body because he was shaking. He could hear people passing by on their way to the bathroom, or down the stairs, or to Anna’s room. He could smell the copious amounts of alcohol all over the house and could hear loud music coming from downstairs.  
Anna told him not to get out of his room, certain that he’d react negatively to this many people, but he was really, really thirsty, and the bedroom was getting smaller again. So, with a tug of the blanket and his cellphone in-hand, Castiel got up and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

A girl he recognized as Megan Masters was drinking beer from his tea mug, and he took note to throw it away first thing tomorrow morning. Ed and Harry were contemplating whether or not to mix scotch with orange juice, and he could see Anna in the living room, sitting on the couch with her friends and a guy who was uncomfortably close to her.

The air was damp and suffocating, and he needed to get water and the hell out of there as soon as possible because this girl was edging closer to him over the counter and offering him a cigarette. He hummed a song in his head to stop himself from making a run for his life when Lisa Braeden put a hand on his hip and went in to kiss him, but he managed to pull away and muffle a terrified scream before rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairs.  
He opened the door to his bedroom, and saw a couple sitting on his bed making out, which brought a new wave of nausea and headache, so he closed the door and went into the bathroom. It was too small, the air was too thick and he couldn’t stop the burning sensation in his eyes.

He dialled a number on his phone mechanically, putting it to his ear and sighing when he heard the person on the other end pick up.

“Cas?’, Dean asked in a worried tone,”What’s that music? Where are you?”

“Dean, can you… Can you come to my house and… Can you come and pick me up? Please?”, he asked, massaging his forehead with his free hand because it hurt like hell.

“I’ll be there in five minutes, okay? Stay calm.”, he said, trying to sound calmer than he was feeling, and then he hung up.

Castiel locked the door and sat on the cold tiled floor, humming and telling himself that Dean would be there any minute and they’d drive to their place, and that he’d make all of this go away. His head was spinning, pulsating painfully and making him lose his breath every few moments.

Less than ten minutes later, he heard a knock on the door and a distressed voice call his name.

“Cas, come on out.”, Dean said calmingly, “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

He got up, unlocked and opened the door, and flung his arms around Dean’s neck.

“I’m sorry.”, he said, clutching at the fabric of Dean’s sweater, “There’s a lot of people here and I don’t know a lot of them, and… I’m sorry.”

His head hurt and it was pulsating again, and the music seemed ten times louder than it really was, and he swore that the coffee table was downstairs and not next to the bathroom door.

“Hey, It’s okay. It’s not your fault…”, Dean said quietly, kissing Cas’s forehead and closing his eyes. He felt Castiel’s hand take his and squeeze it. He sighed, wrapping a hand around Castiel’s shoulder and walking him out the house without so much as a word to anyone inside.

They got into Dean’s car and he turned it on, a roar of the engine that seemed to comfort him in comparison to the music back in the house. He breathed, and hummed, and by the time they reached the highway, his head stopped pulsating.

…

“I should have taken the pills.”, Castiel said quietly as they were driving in a comfortable silence, and Dean looked away from the road.

“Hey, It’s good that you called me. That house was a mess.”, said Dean, smiling comfortingly.

He was frustrated with himself for not being able to get through situations like this alone. And more so he was frustrated that he needed Dean so much, no matter that it was a mutual thing. And he was angry at Anna for being irresponsible and bringing strangers into their home. His head started to hurt again and he could feel the oncoming pulsation beginning.

“I’m really sorry, Dean.”, he whispered. He didn’t know what he was sorry for, but it felt like he should have been sorry for something.

Dean stopped the car on the side of the road and shifted in the driver’s seat so he could look at Castiel fully. Their eyes met, and Castiel felt inexplicably guilty.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, got it? You’re sick, and it sucks, but it’s okay.”, he cupped Castiel’s cheek and brushed over his jaw.

“I just hate that there’s something wrong with me…”, Castiel said, and he looked up at Dean. His eyes looked empty, not like they usually did when Dean was there, and it scared him.

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m broken, and you know it.”

Dean’s eyes widened. Did he really think that low of himself? Could he really believe that he was broken? He wasn’t broken, Dean thought, there was nothing wrong with being sick. He wanted to tell Castiel how much he meant to him, how much it hurt listening to his words and not being able to make him see the real side of things, but he couldn’t find the words to say what he wanted to, because there were no words for it. He couldn’t explain what he felt for Castiel, because he didn’t even understand what it was. He felt something warm run over his palm where it rested on Castiel’s cheek, and saw that it was tears.

“You’re not broken.”, he said, wide-eyed and looking at Castiel like he was frightening. “You are not broken.”, he stressed every word, and Castiel listened quietly.

Dean leaned in, kissed Castiel, and he kissed back because there really wasn’t anything he could do against it. He wanted to feel Dean close like this, warm skin against his, and he felt just a little bit better when he relaxed into the touch.

Then Dean kissed along his jaw and neck, peppering him with pecks and whispering nothings into his ear that made Castiel’s heart skip every time he heard them. “You’re not broken”, he’d say, “There’s nothing wrong with you”. And Castiel wanted to believe it.

He put their foreheads together and looked into the blue of Castiel’s eyes, getting a strange mix or a comfortable and uncomfortable warm feeling in his stomach.

“I love you.”, he said, and those eyes widened and lit up as Castiel’s breath hitched. He never said it before, but now that he did it felt overdue and not enough to express what he felt.

Yes, he did love how Castiel always wore old-fashioned shirts and sweater vests, and how he knew more words in the English dictionary than most teachers in the school, and how he’d go to every single one of Dean’s football games even though the crowd was always big. But love didn’t feel like a sufficient word to describe how he’d feel when he saw Castiel clapping for him after he made the final score, nor how he loved sitting with him in the library for hours even if all they did was study; and how he couldn’t help but smile when Castiel would walk out the school and see him and his face would just light up with so much adoration, or how he loved humming Hey Jude to Castiel even when he was completely calm, and how Castiel never objected to it.

“I love you so much, Cas.”, he breathed a smile and kissed Castiel on the lips again, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I love you too.”, Castiel said, smiling, and the blue in his eyes was so bright and he looked so happy, the way his chapped, kiss swollen lips curled into a smile, that Dean couldn’t help himself from kissing them again.

Castiel spent the night at Dean’s house, because he wasn’t ready to go back to his own, but more because neither of them wanted to say goodbye just yet.


End file.
